A Father's love Of Boromir and Faramir
by Anie Melwasul
Summary: Boromir and Faramir in their childhood days. A look into their relationship and their individual relationships with their father. Just a glance through the years. R&R please
1. Chapter 1

**A Father's Love – Of Boromir and Faramir**

* * *

His eyes were locked on those stairs. Those long, dark, frightening stairs. They would have frightened any boy of his age… Well, almost any boy. "Brother would not be frightened," the lad murmured to himself, pressing onward as best as he could. He had come this far. Up to the tower and now only this last flight of stairs lay between his new duty and where he stood then. And why shouldn't he go? Hadn't he been told to?

"Standing there shan't get the job done," a voice said behind him and Faramir whirled around to see his elder brother leaning against the wall of the corridor, a playful smile peeking the edges of his lips and his eyes dancing with mischief of seeing his brother in such a situation.

"I know that," the nine year old said. "I'm just thinking."

"And that will get you up those stairs?"

"Don't mock me!" his younger brother cried.

Boromir's taunting smile slackened and he moved closer. "I'll tell you a secret when we get to the top," he said simple and began to move up the stairs. Faramir watched him, eyes round and wide and followed as quickly as his small feet would let him. He continued in silence as his brother murmured about this and that, finally coming to the fact that his uniform did not fit.

"I've grown!" Faramir announced proudly.

"And yet Father does not notice," Boromir responded with a sad note to his voice.

"Not since Mother died… She was the only reason he took notice of me."

"You're not dumb at all for your age, no matter what they say," Boromir laughed.

"What do they say?" his younger brother demanded, fists clenched.

"Nothing at all, actually," the elder answered. "But they should rejoice that you've taken a good look at your fear and faced it this day."

Faramir looked around where they were and noted they were no longer in the passage way, but the tower. "We made it!"

"You made it, little brother," Boromir said with a smile and ruffled his hair. "And even if he is not, I am proud of you."

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The long table stretched out before Denethor, Steward of Gondor. He sat at its head with no one to his left or his right. No, the right was only for his eldest son and the left, at times, was where Faramir was allowed. Where were the boys, he thought to himself. Surely the task of going to the tower had not been that difficult for his youngest, and he knew for certain the many tasks he set before his fifteen year old son would have been completed long ago.

The doors burst open, interrupting the train of thought. Faramir, full of the energy that belongs only to a child, bounded up to the table. "We did it, Father!" he announced with a grin spread across his young face. "We did it!"

"Did what?" his father demanded impatiently.

"We made it up to the tower!"

"We?" the Steward asked, eyes focusing now on his eldest.

The teen grinned sheepishly. "I really did nothing, Father. Only stayed with him…"

"Then how shall he learn?" their father growled, standing in his place. "How shall he learn to be more like his elder brother if his elder brother only shelters him?"

"Father, he's only a boy!" Boromir argued. "I only-"

"Enough! You shall have no dinner this night until you go by yourself," Denethor announced to the boy who now stood shaking.

"But Father! The sun has set and there is no light at all!"

"It is as I say and it shall stay," Denethor growled and took his seat once more.

Nodding and biting his lip as to not let out a sob, Faramir took his leave. Boromir turned his angry eyes upon his calm father. "How can you let him go? He's only a boy!"

"And in his young age he shall learn or he shall fall. I have little use for Faramir and he should soon learn this. You, my son, though should sit. Dine with me tonight."

Boromir shook his head in disbelief. "I feel I've lost all appetite tonight."

His father waved him off without a word and he all but stormed out and to the room in which he shared with his younger brother. Faramir was sitting on his bed, a book perched on his knee, eyes staring intently at it as not to look at anything else. He did not look up when his brother entered, nor even when he sat upon his bed.

"Put the book down, Faramir," Boromir commanded softly after several moments of silence.

"But I'm reading."

"No you're not. You're staring at the page."

The lad dropped the book to the bed, his eyes brimming with tears. "Why can't I be more like you?" he demanded suddenly. "Father adores you! But not me… What have I done wrong? How can I… " His sobs choked him as his elder brother pulled him into a tight embrace and Faramir latched his arms around his neck. "I just want him to love me like he loves you…"

"Remember I told you that I'd let you in on a secret?" Boromir whispered. When he felt Faramir nod into his shoulder and he pulled away slowly. "I was no older than you when Father first had me going up those horrible stairs, and of course this never gets out on pain of death, you hear?" This brought a small smile to the little one's lips. "I ran. Faster than I thought I could. I heard a crash that turned out to be some of the men trying to frighten me, and by my word it worked…"

"You ran, Brother?"

"I did. And you did not." Boromir smiled. "Father will learn in time, dearest little brother. He will understand your worth. He will see it as I do. As Mother did."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

Faramir smiled. "Then I will show him."

"In that I have no doubt."


	2. Chapter 2

"But you can't go!"

Boromir sighed as he looked down on his younger brother. The boy was doing all he could to keep his head high and his voice steady, but even as he tried his words wavered. "I must," the elder said as he placed a gloved hand on Faramir's shoulder. "And you must stay here and watch over Father."

"Father cares nothing for me," Faramir grumbled, his grey eyes turned downward. "But you do, Brother. Take me with you!"

There was such a power in the nearly thirteen-year-old's eyes that it took everything Boromir had in him not to comply. The lad stood there with his eyes narrowed slightly, arms crossed across his small chest, and feet firmly planted. It caused his brother to smile. "I shan't be gone long, Faramir, you must believe me. I must go."

"But why? Why must you go and I must stay?"

Boromir chuckled and ruffled his little brother's hair. "Because I am the Captain-General."

"And I can do nothing," the boy sulked.

"You're still a child. You have time."

"But I'm not!" Faramir said suddenly, his eyes blazing with a new strength that had seemed drained only moments before. "I'm nearly thirteen, Brother! Let me ride with you. Let me go with you. I will learn. I can learn, but only if you teach me."

"You will stay here," a voice boomed from the doorway and both brothers looked to see their father standing, very cross looking. "Stop whining. Faramir. He'll be back shortly. A simple patrol over his new men. Perhaps you shall find a way to make yourself useful about home, but I doubt it somehow. Though more useful here than in the way with him."

His elder son shot him a dark look. "He's useful," he said simply and put a hand on either of his brother's shoulders. "Look here, Faramir. Make me proud and show me how much you've learned by the time I return, alright?"

"Yes, Boromir," Faramir murmured.

"Good lad," his brother said with a smile and was gone. Faramir found himself watching his brother until he was out of sight and his footsteps had ceased to echo down the long passage. He stood for a long moment before he heard his father clear his throat impatiently.

"One would think that you were watching him leave forever. Get to your duties, Faramir, before you are too far behind."

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It was three days later, on his youngest son's birthday that he had surely forgotten, that the Steward of Gondor could not find the boy in question. When his servants had returned with news that he was not in the tower as he should be and they had not seen him since early on the second day after Boromir's departure, he stormed into the lad's room, calling and yelling, but found nothing. In fact, he found less than he'd hoped. Faramir had taken up archery, as it appeared that his hands worked well with the arrows and bow than they did with the sword his father had forced him to hold. It was that bow that seemed to be missing that told Denethor everything he needed to know. The fact that a young horse that his son favoured was also missing only secured his suspicions.

"Fool of a child!" the Steward bellowed through the halls, his face red with boiling anger. "When he returns… He'll have what comes to him."

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Faramir was no fool when it came to tracking. His brother had taught him well and he'd managed to find himself accustom to Rangers by his young age. With a quick horse under him and a light load, he had left early on the second day, searching for a way to make his father proud. To show his quality. He'd go with his brother and prove himself to be worthy of all that Boromir was.

"Just a bit further," he murmured to the horse that carried him. "Take me to Boromir." The words had barely passed his lips when he saw the smoke coming from a distance. It was not the smoke of a simple fire, or even a large one, but of a burning camp. He spurred on, faster, and felt a shiver flow through him. His horse bucked suddenly, nearly throwing him as the sound of many men – or creatures - loud cries reached his ears.

"Steady, fellow," Faramir urged as he jumped from his ride, coaxing the beast towards the shade of the trees. "Easy now." The orcs, as he saw that they were, rushed past him in their fury. The boy shuddered at the sight of them and held tightly to his horse. It was several long moments before he was sure they had all gone by and he ventured out. He squinted in the early dawn's light, straining to see. There had been a camp, he saw. Men that he might have recognized had they not been attacked by that bunch of orcs. Faramir began to shake as the realization donned on him. "Boromir!" he shouted.

Nothing seemed to stir as he moved forward, checking the bodies and reeling back in horror. He'd seen death, but never like this. Not by orcs. His mind spun at the sight of the mutilated soldiers and Rangers that lay caked with blood.

"Boromir!" Faramir called out again, fear rising. "Are you here, Brother?"

The sound of a man groaning some few feet away caused the boy to spin around. His brother lay face down in the dirt, clothes torn and hair tangled. His sword was just out of grasp. Faramir ran to him and knelt beside him, shaking hands grasping his shoulder and shaking. "Boromir! Please! Boromir, can you hear me, Brother?"

His elder brother's eyes fluttered open. "Faramir?" he murmured, voice weak. "Why… are you here?"

"I came to find you," Faramir answered quietly.

"And a good thing you did," Boromir replied with a smile.

"Then you're not angry, Brother?"

"No… Does Father know you are here?"

"I don't think so." A small, unhappy smile appeared on the younger boy's lips. "He wouldn't have noticed."

"You'd be surprised," Boromir murmured as he sat up, slowly and with his hand going to his head. "Orcs… I hate them all. Did you find any alive?"

"I haven't checked," the shaken boy answered, helping his brother to stand. "I had to find you."

"And find me you did." Boromir braced himself against a tree and sighed. "So many good men… We shall not be caught unawares the next time."

"Next time?"

"You expect me to leave our borders unprotected against orcs? We shall return and we shall take them down."

"And at that time I shall ride _with_ you and not after you. After all, I am thirteen now."

Boromir couldn't help but smile at the matter-of-fact statement. "Yes, you are today, are you not? I suppose as Captain-General of Gondor's armies I could take you along… I don't see how I might get away from doing it, seeing as you have a mind to follow me anyway."

Faramir nodded in agreement.

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They returned home with many more than they expected as the dawn's light had driven the orcs from finishing their slaughter. Denethor was waiting with a disapproving air upon their arrival, but said nothing as his eldest son held his head high in a silent command not to say a word. If he pleased to later, he would, but not upon their arrival. Faramir, for his part, was overjoyed on the return and was fully ready to take on his duties in the tower guards once again.

"Someday," Boromir said one late afternoon after their return as he sat and watched his younger brother practicing his archery skills, "you will look back on all this and say you spent more time slaying dragons than in your books that you loved so dearly when you were little."

"But I've slain no dragons, brother," Faramir answered promptly.

"A figure of speech," Boromir laughed.

"Do not tell me I was not meant for this," the boy said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Father says it all the time."

"Really? I've never heard him come out and say it."

"Well, he doesn't. Not with his mouth, at any rate, but with his eyes. With his eyes he tells me more and more that I will fail, that I shall never match up. Please do not tell me the same, Boromir."

The elder of the brothers stood, still a bit stiff from the battle only a few days before, and placed a steady hand on Faramir's small shoulder. "I would never tell you such a horrible lie. You are meant to grow into a great man, this I know."

"As great as you?"

"Better."

With that, Boromir left the younger boy to his thoughts.

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A/N: Alright, let me tell you now: I have not actually finished reading the books… Yes, I know, multiple shame on me. I do love them! I just have no time…. I have done some looking into sites online about Boromir and Faramir and found that I have their ages off by a year… Ah well, I went by the differences in actors' ages lol. Also I was going to tell you if this was a horrible installment, let me know.. I was very tired while writing this, but felt like writing something. Though I've heard people do enjoy some of the stuff I write while half asleep, so we'll see. If it's terrible, please tell me in somewhat kind words and I'll take it down and work out something else. Or something… who knows quite what…

Nautika: Yes… everyone hates Denethor and if they don't they should. Lol! He's so horrible… how can any father be that way? I mean… good grief… Glad my parents aren't…

Steelelf: Much thanks

Rana Ninque: Yes… I'd already planned on expanding some on this one. And I'm flirting a bit with this idea I have to bring Boromir back. I'm terrible about that kind of stuff… I never let the dead rest… Oh well. If it comes about it comes about lol! I'm also HOPING to make the "A Father's Love" into a series with a snippit on Legolas and probably one on Frodo (with Merry and Pippin and Sam in it too, of course!) and possibly even Aragorn and the twins… Who knows? Hehe… I'm a bit more of a Faramir fan, actually, and just discovered it. And I've been a fan for how long… goodness it takes me forever! Lol!

Lindahoyland: Thank you very much! I've been meaning to review your stories.. I've been reading them. Very nicely written and sooner or later I'll actually review lol:P


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